Look Down
by booksandtutus
Summary: Arrow-inspired Modern AU. Pretty much the same old storyline: Enjolras is rich, Eponine isn't. Their lives converge unexpectedly. Rated T for swearing.
1. Chapter 1

Fluorescent lights. Unfamiliar, scratchy clothing. A beeping monitor. A dripping IV.

Goddammit.

Enjolras groaned and tried to lift his arm.

"Oh my god, Enjolras! Enjolras, sweetie, are you alright? Try not to move too much, okay? You took a really hard hit." An all too familiar voice chimed beside him, as his mother fussed frantically over him, checking all his bandages and the IV in his arm.

His mother.

Last night's events flooded his memory.

_"Hey Enjy, here's the latest stuff on the streets." A girl he was sure he hadn't invited whispered in his ear, tucking a small bag of bright aqua and white pills in his hand. "It's called Vertigo. And it'll take you to places you've never been before."_

_"Are you on it?" he asked._

_"If I was, I wouldn't be wearing this much, believe me." She replied, tracing her finger along his neck._

_"Uhh… sure. Yeah, I'll just pop upstairs and put this stuff in my room. Don't want anyone catching us with it." Enjolras answered, wondering how she got past security._

_He didn't see it coming._

_"Mom?" Enjolras asked, trying to keep his voice from shaking. "Mom, what in the hell are you doing?"_

_"Enjolras, it's not what you think, sweetie, it really isn't—" _

_"How could you? At my 18__th__ birthday party? Seriously, mom?" his voice cracked, betraying him._

_"Enjolras—"_

_"No. You know I…I can't, I can't even look at you anymore." He turned around, blinking, and walked as fast as he could back to the party, leaving his mother standing helplessly in the hallway._

_He looked down at the pills in his hand._

"Get the hell away from me. Get the hell out of here. I don't want to see you."

"Honey, I—"

"Now." He gritted through his teeth. She blinked tears, nodded and left.

"Bit harsh there, bud." His friend leaning against the wall commented.

"Don't." Enjolras closed his eyes. "Last night. How bad was it?"

"Well I, for one, still say that I hold the record for dumbest act, seeing as I sang _Hit Me Baby One More Time_ and _I Just Need Somebody to Love_ while playing baseball strip naked with some lovely ladies…but you cut it pretty close. You up and left _your_ _own_ birthday party, got high, and drove your birthday present into a tree." Grantaire replied, leaning away from the wall and coming over to Enjolras's bedside. "It grieves me to say that your sweet ride didn't make it."

"I don't give a shit about the damn car."

"Is that so? You begged your mum for weeks on end for it. You called it your baby. You—"

"Alright, I get it, I get it." Enjolras turned away from Grantaire.

"Ah, ah. There's more, my friend. And I'm afraid it isn't great news."

"I totaled my beautiful car and fucked up my 18th birthday party. What could be worse?"

"Dangerous words." Grantaire wagged his finger. "See, you were driving under influence of drugs, so…"

"Ah, shit." Enjolras covered his face with his hands. "_Shit_."

"The judge wanted to make an example of you and show the world that just because you have money, doesn't mean you escape the law. Your trial was scheduled in 5 days."

"Was?"

"Nevertheless, strings were pulled." Grantaire shrugged. "You've got 2 years of probation and 500 hours of community service at a legal office in the Glades."

"You're funny."

"Would you rather go to jail?"

There was a pause. Enjolras sighed. "No."

"Good, because you've got a much better deal here. Just…watch out, alright man? The Glades is still the Glades."

"Yeah."

* * *

"Alright, Enjolras, can you pull out everything dated after 2009 from this pile?" Cosette asked, handing him the stack of papers.

Day ten of his community service.

Things had been going alright, seeing as Enjolras was now working for his brother's ex-girlfriend, whose father, Inspector Javert, hated their family but still pulled the strings to help Enjolras. Cosette was a regular modern Snow White, and Enjolras couldn't see why Oliver had left her. No chance to ask him now, though.

He looked up as he finished with the filtering assignment to see Cosette smiling at him.

"What?"

"Lunch. Come on, I know a good vendor. And I'm guessing you've never eaten anything from a street vendor."

* * *

"Mm, God, who knew street meat could taste so good?"

"I had a feeling you needed a break from the office." Cosette smiled. "Hank was my first client. I kept his son from going to jail for a mugging he didn't commit."

"And how did that not score you free hotdogs for life?"

Cosette laughed.

"C.N.R.I gives low income people access to the legal system, without them, Hank's son would have gone to prison forever."

"I could have gone to prison, too." Enjolras protested. He fiddled with his cellphone and tucked it into his front pocket.

"He couldn't afford a dream team of super lawyers."

"So I'm supposed to feel lucky because I have a rich family?"

"No. You are lucky. And hopefully C.N.R.I will show you that."

Enjolras looked at Cosette.

Someone bumped roughly into Enjolras. The weight in his back and front pockets lifted.

"Hey!" He yelled after the lithe red figure. He and Cosette sprinted after the thief, cornering him to a tall fence. A dead end.

"Give us the wallet, and we won't press any charges." Cosette panted.

The hooded thief turned.

Enjolras's jaw dropped. "You're a girl." he said incredulously.

"Woman." She replied, a smirk played on her lips but barely reached her chocolate eyes.

Enjolras blinked.

The thief leapt onto the wall and ricocheted over the top of the fence and onto the other side. She glanced back at Enjolras and Cosette to make sure they didn't follow suit.

Her chocolate eyes met his one last time.

And then she was gone. Melted back into the shadows of the Glades.

"Yeah, you're right. I really do feel lucky." Enjolras muttered. Something glinted in the light, catching his eye. He walked up to the fence and saw a necklace, with a silver bird hanging along the thin chain. "Hey, she dropped this."

"Must've snagged on the fence as she jumped over. You can use it to track her."

* * *

"Yes, she wears a red hoodie, she's a brunette, brown eyes, yup. Uh huh. Thank you so much." Enjolras spoke into the phone as he scribbled on the notepad in front of him.

_Éponine Thénardier._

He circled it. He would find her.

**A/N: Inspired by a new favourite TV series of mine, Arrow! ****_Inspired_****, though. Might turn out differently. Please review! Thanks :)**


	2. Chapter 2

Éponine ran her hands through her hair and groaned. This was not happening. She'd never been caught before. Not once. Not ever.

Enjolras observed her from behind the one-sided mirror in the interrogation room.

"That was a very important wallet to Mr. Enjolras that you stole. He wants it back." Inspector Javert looked at her sternly.

"I don't have it." She muttered at her hands.

"Then Mr. Enjolras will be pressing charges."

Éponine's head snapped up so hard she swore she heard a crack. "No," she breathed, "No, _please_."

"He wants the wallet."

"I already told you, I _don't have it_! I already sold it." She looked at him imploringly. "Look, I don't want to steal. Okay, I don't have any other choice.

My mother, she…" she took a deep breath, "she has a problem."

"Yeah, her daughter's a moron."

"No." she looked at him "Vertigo."

The corner of Inspector Javert's mouth twitched, the glint in his eyes dimmed. Enjolras felt a twinge of guilt in his chest.

_He looked at the small bag of bright aqua and white pills in his hand._

The inspector grunted. "I'm listening."

"My asshole of a father has been cheating on my mother since before I was born. Since before they were married. For twenty fucking years, he's been rolling in the sheets with whores. When my mum found out, she… she broke. Just…broke." Éponine's eyes started to water. "She got hooked last year. She kicked it. I guess she'd done enough that…it messed her up."

"Mm."

"She hasn't been the same since. And her medical bills…I've been trying, but it's…it's been _hard_." Her voice cracked at her last word.

Enjolras studied her eyes intensely. Her words rang with bitter truth.

"Let her go."

"Are you sure?" Cosette asked.

"Just let her go."

* * *

Tap. Tap-tap. Tap.

Éponine cautiously stood up and opened the door to reveal…

The rich ass idiot she had robbed and played.

She closed the door.

"How'd you know where I live?" she growled through the door.

"Little thing called the internet." Enjolras answered. "Look, can we not do this with a door between us?"

There was a pause. Then Éponine opened the door, checking left and right warily.

"So I guess you aren't pressing charges because you think you can change my life?" Éponine leaned against the doorframe, "So you can run back to your prep school friends and tell them what a saint you are and how you're helping the disadvantaged?"

"I want my wallet back."

"How many times do I have to tell you –"

"Bring me to the people you sold it to. I'll buy it back."

She narrowed her eyes. "Why is it so important to you? You're rich, you can just buy another one."

"That one was special."

Éponine guffawed. "Special. Hah. You rich boys don't understand the meaning of _special_."

Enjolras's icy cold eyes pierced through her. "You don't know a thing about me."

Éponine looked at him dead in the eye. "James Enjolras. Second son of the richest family in this city. Totaled a car that he got as a _birthday_ _present_. Loves designer labels and is usually in the tabloids for partying too much." She raised her eyebrows sarcastically, "Did I leave anything out?"

"Yeah." He replied coldly, "Murdered father. Dead brother, so that would make him the _only_ son of that family. Cheating mother with his father's _best friend_. And, almost served jail time for that car accident. Plus he really wants his wallet back."

She flinched and looked away, for only a moment.

"You know, you showed some real sack coming down here. The Glades in the middle of the night."

"You underestimate the value of that wallet."

"I don't owe you anything."

"Really? You think your fake sob story actually worked on me?" he asked roughly. "You insult my intelligence."

"Oh, so you were being a gentleman, is that it?" she retorted before his words could sink in and sting her.

"I could have pressed charges, but I didn't, even after you lied to my face. That's a debt to be paid, Thénardier."

She glared at him.

He glared back.

"Fine." She spat. "But it won't be easy. And after this, we're even. Deal?"

"Deal." Enjolras nodded.

"Meet me at Myriel's tomorrow morning at 11. Don't be late."

Enjolras nodded, and made to leave.

"Hey." She blurted before she could stop herself. "Can I give you some advice?"

He turned his face to look back at her.

"Stay out of the Glades."


	3. Chapter 3

Enjolras drummed his fingers on the table next to his cup of coffee, resting his cheek on his hand lazily.

She was late.

Ding.

A little girl skipped in through the door, holding her grandfather's hand.

It was 11:40.

Ding.

A couple with fingers entwined stumbled through the door, giggling.

Enjolras turned his face back to look through the window, frustrated. Where the hell was she?! He was started to think she had set him up, as a big jok—

"I didn't," said a slightly raspy voice behind him.

He whipped around to see a panting Éponine, clutching his wallet, hair disheveled. Beads of sweat trickled alongside her forehead. She was wearing her signature red hoodie.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Stand you up. I didn't." she panted.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Admit it, you were thinking it."

He gave her an amused look.

She plopped down in the booth seat, "Hilarious." Taking his coffee cup, she took a long sip.

"That's mine."

She placed it down and smirked. "Not anymore, it isn't."

He narrowed his eyes at her. She cheerfully plopped two cubes of sugar and stirred.

"You're late. By forty-five minutes, to be sure." He grumbled.

"And you're rude. You know what I had to go through to get this thing back for you?"

"I don't like waiting."

"Well, get used to it, big boy. You can't have it all."

He sighed. "My wallet."

"My wallet?! How about, my wallet _please_?"

He blinked at her, confused. "That's what I said."

"That is _not_ what you said."

"Then what did I say?"

"You…" she let out a frustrated sound and slid his stupid wallet across the table at him.

"Thank you?" he was still confused.

She waved her hand, "Words. Promise you won't throw me in jail. Ever."

"Promise me you won't mug me."

"Never trust a Thénardier's promise."

"Why should you trust mine then?"

"Well you obviously aren't a Thénardier, are you?"

They glared at each other.

Enjolras sighed, "Fine, I won't throw your ass in jail. Happy?"

The corner of her mouth twitched upward, and she nodded, pleased. She took another sip of the coffee.

"What's so important about that thing anyway?" she asked, gesturing at the wallet.

He looked at the wallet, and opened it. He took out a modest, gold ring with a small emerald as a centerpiece.

"This is my grandmother's," his voice was soft.

She observed him quietly over the rim of her cup.

"I know, I know," he said, looking at her eyes. "Not your kind of jewelry."

"Who knows?" she said, plucking it from his fingers. "Only one way to find out, right?" She smiled and slipped it onto her ring finger.

The fit was perfect; she lifted her hand and splayed her fingers. The light caught the emerald and danced along her fingers. They were both quiet. It was beautiful.

"You're right," she said. "Not for me."

He nodded mutely, taking her hand in his. As he pulled the ring from her finger, he said, "If you need it, you can take the money in the wallet."

"No, I'm good. Thanks."

There was an awkward silence and they both looked down at Éponine's coffee cup.

"Well… it was nice doing business with you, Éponine Thenardier," Enjolras said, standing up. " I should get going."

She looked up at him from her cup, and nodded. "Okay. Good luck."

"With what?"

"I don't know. Your mum. Your family. Life."

He smiled. "Thanks. Good-bye."

"Try not to get mugged."

He laughed, and left.

* * *

Enjolras walked into the parking lot towards his car. When he put his hand on the door handle, he felt the end of a gun touch the back of his head.

"Wallet and keys. Now." A gruff male voice commanded. "Turn around slowly."

Enjolras bit back a swear word. He slowly shifted.

The gun left his head. He blinked, and saw a small blur of red.

"_CROTCH_ _SHOT_!"

Éponine jumped towards the gunman's face with her legs splayed. She wrapped them around his shoulders and flipped her torso around to slam his face to the ground and break it.

The gun went sprawling.

Another man appeared from behind Enjolras's rental and made a grab for Enjolras' neck. Enjolras grabbed his arms and twisted them, forcing a scream from the man. Enjolras slammed the man's head into the bumper of his car with ease, knocking him out cold.

Éponine was still struggling with the gunman, who had pulled a knife and had blood splattered on the side of his left cheek and nose. When he lunged at her, she ricocheted off the graffiti wall and jumped on him, slamming his head to the concrete wall and knocking him out of consciousness.

Panting, she looked up at Enjolras, "You okay? And didn't I _just_ tell you _not_ to get mugged?!"

"Well, it's not like I _asked_ to be threatened with a gun—"

She glared. She was clutching her side, which drew his eye. Her red hoodie was dark.

"You're _bleeding_!"

"Yeah, that's what happens when you get stabbed," Éponine winced.

* * *

"Looks like quite the daring rescue. You're very lucky to have a friend like Éponine, Enjolras." The doctor said, wiping Éponine's gash with an alcohol swab.

"Oh, don't I know it."

"We're not friends," said Éponine.

"Well why don't I get you stitched up and you then you can both decide what you are, or…aren't." The doctor stood and walked to the counter.

"I could have handled them just _fine_. I'm not a damsel in distress, you know," Enjolras rolled his eyes at Éponine.

Éponine didn't hear him. She was too busy staring at the needle the doctor was handling.

"Éponine," he asked, "What's the matter?"

"Nothing, I just don't see why I need a shot," Éponine said, her voice firm. Too firm.

Enjolras scoffed, "Oh, don't tell me a tough gang banger like yourself is afraid of a tiny little needle?"

Éponine looked at him sharply, "It doesn't look so tiny."

"Well, just, think about something else. Besides the needle."

"Like what?" Éponine replied.

"Okay, so this could sting a little…" the doctor said.

Éponine braced herself, looking at the needle.

On impulse, Enjolras gently turned Éponine's face away from the needle with his right hand and placed his lips carefully on hers.

He tasted like tart apples.

She tasted like bittersweet coffee.

"And…done," the doctor removed the needle from Éponine's side and covered it with a bandage.

Enjolras leaned back and smiled at Éponine.

"Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?"


End file.
